Spinning
by Phoenix Belfalas
Summary: Ninth in a series of short vignettes, ‘Bad Faith’, in which Ron Weasley looks at his life, family, friends, and enemies. Not as dull as it sounds, have no fear. Warning - insinuation of slash, some minor angst and violence.


Title – Spinning

Authoress – Phoenix Tears

Summary – Ninth in a series of short vignettes, 'Bad Faith', in which Ron Weasley looks at his life, family, friends, and enemies. Not as dull as it sounds, have no fear.

Rating – PG

Warning – Slash, a bit of angst, jealousy, and violence.

Disclaimer – I own nothing, except for this plot. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Feedback – Of course, as for every writer, questions, thoughts, and constructive criticism are all greatly appreciated. Thank you, and enjoy.

~*~

            Each year has 365 days in a year, 366 if it's a leap year.

            Every day has 24 hours.

            Each hour has 60 minutes.

            Each minute has 60 seconds.

            Everything is just so regular, always going accordingly, habitually, correctly.

I am seventeen years old.

            My name is Ronald Weasley, I'm in Gryffindor House, seventh year, and I'm the Gryffindor Quidditch team Keeper.

            The world keeps on spinning.

~*~

            I worry for Harry. He's been my best friend for seven years already, and it seems just like yesterday when I met him on the Hogwarts Express.

            I remember it so well – how he refused Malfoy's hand of friendship for me. It was a nice feeling, to know you had a good friend, like butterbeer in your body, except much better. I get that feeling when I'm with Harry and Hermione.

            Dear 'Mione. She's so smart, and I'm so clumsy, and incompetent. Sometimes I wonder why she puts up with me, really.

            She said, "_Amor vincit omnia_, Ron." At my usual clueless look, she exasperatedly explained to me, "It's Latin." I found it strange how Hermione had taken a liking to using Latin phrases. "It means '_love conquers all_'. That's why I put up with you, really," she said with a smile on her face. The conversation ensued with a snogging session.

            I'm lucky to have such great friends and such a great family. I know that Mum and Dad love me loads, and so do all my brothers and Ginny. I suppose I take everything for granted, being born into such a large, loving family.

            Unfortunately, we're poor as well. This is a cause of a lot of problems.

            That's one of the main reasons why I can't stand Draco Malfoy, the bloody git. He's got everything – looks, money, fame. Why? I ask myself. He's cruel to everyone; why was he blessed with all of it, and not me? I don't know the answer.

            I hate him with a burning ferocity. I suppose it goes back, centuries ago. It started around the tenth, give or take fifty years, generation of Weasleys and Malfoys.

            William Weasley and Hadrian Malfoy had gone riding one day. You could say they were friends of sorts, maybe. They were riding on the Malfoy Estate, and Hadrian went ahead to go explore some of the woods to see if it would be good for hunting.

            Upon finding that the woods were, indeed, good for hunting, Hadrian and William set off, bows and arrows in hand. As you can tell, this took place quite a while ago. They were hunting in the Muggle fashion.

            Hadrian, with his Malfoy arrogance, bet William in a wizard's bet that he could shoot down more birds than William. William, with his Weasley rashness, agreed.

            They shot for half an hour, and Hadrian won.

            The stakes for the bet was one thousand Galleons.

            Even at that time, when the Weasleys had been substantially richer than now, they did not have the kind of money to throw away one thousand Galleons carelessly. Not like the Malfoys, who, with connections in England, France, Italy, and where else, could.

            William refused to pay, thus unknowingly breaking a wizard's bet. Hadrian, as the compensation for breaking the wizard's bet, made William give him a share of the Weasley land, as well as a hefty chunk of their funds. It was more than one thousand Galleons, for sure. No matter how much William griped about it, he knew that Hadrian had the power and reason to be making him pay.

            He should have handed over the one thousand Galleons.

            And the Weasleys, ever bitter, and the Malfoys, ever scornful, were enemies from that day on. Even until now, in my generation.

            The world keeps on spinning.

~*~

            "That bloody Malfoy!" I fumed. "Landing me in a detention with Filch. Damn him!" I was referring to the events of barely an hour ago, when Malfoy had collided with us in the corridor. Surprisingly, he didn't mock or insult us, rather merely picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He absently muttered an apology to Harry, not even looking up to see whom it was. Harry looked almost surprised. Almost.

            I wasn't going to let him go so easily. "What do you think you're doing, Malfoy, ramming into us like that in the corridors? And expecting that we'll just let you off?"

            Malfoy looked up, silver eyes tired but snapping angrily. "Fuck off, Weasley. I'm not in the mood for your petty insults."

            "Listen to me, you albino ferret," and here Malfoy's eyes flared wildly. "Ooh, looks like I hit a sensitive spot. Are you an albino, Malfoy? Based on all the inbreeding that you Slytherins do, I wouldn't put it past you to really be one."

            Harry and Hermione tried to restrain me, Harry whispering urgently, "Ron, don't go insulting this early in the week. He didn't even say anything to you first, Ron."

            Malfoy clenched his jaw, the Slytherins gathering around him protectively, forming an arch. "I am not albino," he hissed dangerously. "I will repeat, I am not in the mood for your petty insults." He made to brush past me imperiously and coldly, but at that moment, all the times that Malfoy had insulted Hermione, Harry, and me came rushing back at me. I was filled with hatred and loathing.

            I wanted revenge.

            I grabbed him by his throat – Malfoy was delicate in bone structure – easily, and pinned him against the wall, my hand around his throat.

            "What the hell do you think you're doing, Weasley?" Malfoy hissed irately.

            "Revenge, Ferret," I keep him pinned there until his face started to become flushed from lack of oxygen. He's making strangled noises, Hermione's yelling at me, Harry's trying to pull me off, and the Slytherins are trying to break through the crowd and make way to their beloved prince.

            Malfoy gained control of his body and kicked me, hard, in the stomach. For such an effeminate and fragile figure, he was surprisingly strong. It sent me stumbling onto the floor, and at that time, Professor McGonagall appeared.

            "Mr. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy! I'm shocked!" she said disapprovingly.

            Malfoy and the Slytherins protested that I had started it, but Professor McGonagall said sternly, "Thirty points from Slytherin for initiating a fight in the corridors, ten points from Gryffindor for fighting." Inside, I was smirking at Malfoy. He was massaging his throat, glaring daggers at me, while his fellow Housemates fussed over him. I noticed Blaise Zabini comforting Draco awkwardly.

            Harry looked awkward as well. His eyes were downcast and he was fidgeting, as if debating to say something. At last he did. "Professor McGonagall?"

            "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

            "It – it wasn't Malfoy that started the fight. Ron started it, Professor."

            The whole hallway went silent. It wasn't everyday that Harry Potter defended Draco Malfoy, his arch-nemesis, and instead got me, his best friend, in trouble.

            Professor McGonagall was shocked, as well, and then turned to face Hermione. 

            "Who started the fight, Miss Granger? I trust you to answer truthfully."

            Hermione hesitated for a moment, glancing at me. "Ron started it. He had Malfoy pinned up against the wall, and Malfoy kicked back in self-defense, Professor."

            McGonagall frowned at me, and said, "Detention, Wednesday evening at nine o'clock with Filch, Mr. Weasley. All of you, get to classes!"

            I looked at Harry. He looked back, lowering his head, saying, "Sorry, Ron. I didn't mean to get you in trouble; it would have been wrong to stand there and see Malfoy get all the blame for something he didn't do, even if he usually does."

            "It's alright, Harry," I said back. I understood; Harry was moralistic and couldn't let anyone take the blame for something they didn't do. I understood, of course.

            What's a detention to a Weasley, anyway?

            It was the knowledge that my best friend, morality aside, had defended Malfoy and gotten me in trouble, instead.

            But it was all right, of course. He's Harry Potter, and I'm just Ronald Weasley.

            Harry was talking, part to himself, part to me. "It's just so unfair, sometimes, how all the teachers and students immediately assume that when something goes wrong, a Slytherin had started it. It's all just so ingrained into us that we never think about how wrong it is to accuse Slytherins like that… We treat Slytherins like the scum of the earth, and then gripe at them when they become Death Eaters and do evil things, but its actually we who made them do it. It's we who are the hypocrites."

            Hermione looked at Harry as if seeing things in a new light, and said, "You're right, Harry. I think that things should change. Perhaps I should go into the library and research about when this Slytherin and Gryffindor feud first started, or maybe it has always been there, ever since Salazar and Godric?"

            The world keeps on spinning.

            My best friend is the Quidditch star Seeker, Head Boy, and Boy-Who-Lived, and my girlfriend is the smartest witch in the school, Head Girl, and model, perfect witch.

            I'm just Ronald Weasley.

            Our family is poor, the grass is green, I hate Draco Malfoy, the sky is blue, and Neville snores a lot at night. What's new?

            The world just keeps on spinning.

~*~

Authoress' Note: It was harder to write this fic, for some weird reasons… I suppose I wanted to show how hard it was for Ron to stand in the shadows, sometimes, even though he is the Keeper for Gryffindor. I suppose it would get to me also if there was a Draco Malfoy in my life as a worst enemy and Harry Potter as a best friend.

            To clear something up: I don't mean for Ron to be such a bully here. That's not how I see him; however, Ron is hotheaded and doesn't control his temper well. He hates Draco with this fierce, strong passion, and when Draco is vulnerable – mind you, this is the night after he finds out about the truth with Blaise and Pansy, and then 'makes up' with Blaise – he takes his chance to strike. 


End file.
